Running Scared
by Fencer'nWriter
Summary: A K/C fic. Based on a true story. The first is installment is more or less a prologue. The rating is there for future chapters.
1. Small Lass

1 RUNNING SCARED  
  
Disclaimer: I own neither of the characters mentioned in this story, but the writing it's self is mine, and only mine. I will take full credit for it, no matter how stunningly awful it may be, and reviews, lemons and flames included, are always welcomed.  
  
Rain thudded on the stone cobbles beneath the oaks and spruces surrounding the newest building on Palace grounds, the Sandonquin Laboratory. Sciences of all sorts, shapes, and sizes came under careful scrutiny of the pages, squires, and knights' eyes, with the eyes of their professors watching them in return. Exiting the building, Cleon by her side, Kel inquired just where it was they were going before Cleon's drama performance 3 and a half-hours away. Somehow, despite her lack of enthusiasm towards the Christian religion, Cleon, puppy dog eyes and all, persuaded her to visit the Chapel with him. Hiking the "stairway to heaven", or, in other words, the exceedingly long stair case leading up to the enormous, exquisitely-carved, oak doors, the two exchanged cheerful banter as they went. Creaking open, the doors uttered the only sound that resounded about the Cathedral, and, leading the way, Kel strolled down the center aisle amongst the pews of cedar with the ruby softness. Settling one the ebony stool in front of the piano, Cleon's hand drifted with ease across the ivory shine and black depth. The magic, which emerged, was awe- inspiring. "Goddamn, Cleon, why the hell did you never tell me you play such as this," Kel demanded.  
  
"Oh, I don't know. The thought just never crossed my mind," Cleon replied, his tone calm and inviting.  
  
Was that a hint of seduction she sensed? Probably, but why follow up, she thought. Commencing his magic once more, Cleon began to play a piece Kel was acquainted with, and on impulse, she began to hum along. An abrupt halt to music silenced Kel, and she raised one eyebrow at Cleon.  
  
"Sing," He requested.  
  
After stumbling of a couple of mixed phrases, Kel flatly refused. "No," she insisted. "I can't sing."  
  
"Yes, you most certainly can. Singing is merely the concept of humming but issuing words in the process," Cleon quipped, his voice flirty and daring.  
  
After arguing for the entirety of thirty minutes, with very little accomplished, Kel finally gave in, belting out a strain of one of Squires bands. " I tried so hard, and got so far, but in the end, it doesn't really matter. I had to fall to lose it all, but in the end it doesn't even matter." Embarrassed, the lusty page averted her eyes, thinking quite unpleasant thoughts. It's just Cleon, She told herself. Most of the time I'm entirely too busy charging at him with my Sabre to notice the flecks of gray in his eyes, or just how tones his torso is. Why now? No lust for me.  
  
"You've got a beautiful voice, Small Lass," Cleon stated, sincerity filling his voice. Denying all allegations, Kel blushed and took to the bench where Cleon had been resting before he chose to get up and stand at Kels' level for a bit better persuasion. To distract the attention from herself, the page busied herself by trying to compose a song from remnants of what she remembered. Striding from the near-by pew to where Kel was sitting, Cleon positioned himself behind his squire and wrapped his arms around her waist, bending to place his unshaven face on her shoulder.  
  
"No matter what you say, you're a beautiful singer." Cleon huskily emphasized. Subconsciously, Kel leaned her upper body away from her fellow page to get a better look at him. Success wasn't within her reach, however, but the ramifications were just as pleasing. On Kels' exposed neck, Cleon placed a nibbling kiss on her neck and traced her jaw-line with the tip of his nose. Fingers in her hair, her attention was no longer on the song she was trying to decipher. Taking her hands from the keys and grasping his they stayed there until they could stay no longer. The dinner bell rung. 


	2. Wishes

Disclaimer: I own neither of the characters mentioned in this story, but the writing it's self is mine, and only mine. I will take full credit for it, no matter how stunningly awful it may be, and reviews, lemons and flames included, are always welcomed.  


Prologue: 'Running Scared' was a true story with names changed. Now the truth branches off into things that I wish would happen and things that actually have happened. REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW...P  
LEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASE!!!!!!!

Night fell, Cleon's Drama performance began and ended, and Kel now stood chatting with a couple of convent girls, Connara of Newfanhaven and Betsly of Queen's Revenge. Behind her, Kel heard a soft cough and the whisper of 'Small Lass'. A warm feeling crept across her torso and she said "Hullo, Cleon," without even needing to turn around. Introducing Cleon to Betsly and Connara, Kel and Cleon began exchanging looks, carrying on an entirely silent conversation with the minds of their eyes. Noticing these looks, questions immediately began to bombard Kel. Connara was the first to the attack.   
"Are you two, like, together?" Connara prodded them.  
"Yeah, are you guys, well, you know?" Bestly joined in. A moment passed, Cleon and Kel carried on a brief, soundless conversation, and responded 'No, we're not,' in unison. 

"Well, then why do you two keep giving each other bedroom eyes?", Betsly goaded, giggling, the giggle contagious enough for Connara to catch it. Talking again, Kel took the stand this time.

"Because we can," She replied, a smirk creeping to her lips. The chatting continued in this way for a bit of time, and, upon the satisfaction that Cleon and Kel were merely friends with a few benefits, the topic of choice shifted to the Drama production. From the Convent, to Knight Masters and so, Kel anxiously answered and asked questions to be sociable, eager for time with Cleon. Finally, the Convent mistress called the girls away, and Cleon took Kels' hand, leading her through the door nearest to them onto the balcony landing of the theatre. 

"Oh, Small Lass, What am I going to with you? Flirting with me in front of those two lasses, you'd think you actually had a thing for me…" Cleon said, heat and desire permeating his voice and features. Looking into his spark-ringed eyes, thoughts of quandaries withdrew their attacks and everything around them ebbed away.

"But Angel, you're just too marvelous, I must flirt. Blame it on my girly lusts, but you just can't be resisted," Kel said, her voice portraying her need or bodily contact. Taking the initiative and reading Kel almost better than he read himself, he picked his lass up, placing her gently on the wrought iron table near the rails, and stepped towards her. Spreading her legs, she allowed him nearer to her, as close as he could get while clothed, and when he was close enough, she wrapped her legs around his torso. Tentatively, his shoulders tensed and his arms at his side, he covered her mouth with his. Not nearly passionate enough for Kel, she drew her love towards her, until her back was against the iron and Cleons' torso was parallel to hers. Tracing his lips with her tongue, she begged. She would have been on her knees if she could have been but it's more likely that her tongue would have ended up other places than in her lovers' mouth. Her lover? Did she love him, and he, her? If this was so, how would their families react, and what would happen to the marriages their parents could plan for them? Right now, that was all but trivial, and she was reminded of this as one of his hands ventured up her shirt to explore a bit of new territory and tease her hard, erect, tender nipples. Coherence was gone with that and the table wouldn't suffice for long. Or would it?

!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!!~~!~~!~~!~~!~~!!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!

A/N: Should the fu…make love? Huh, huh? Should they, should they?


End file.
